


I feel fine

by HoneiBadger



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 02:47:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10844901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoneiBadger/pseuds/HoneiBadger
Summary: When Sherlock gets sick he just wants to be left alone.But for John as a doctor it is not easy to let him.





	I feel fine

**Author's Note:**

> Hi,  
> I am not a nativ speaker. So sorry for all the grammar and Spelling mistakes . ;)

It was a cold evening in London. Greg was having a hard time at the crime scene. No matter how hard he thought about it, to him it made just no sense. Only once he wanted to have a scene where everything seems clear to him. But for that he was in the wrong department.

He pulled out his phone and dialled the all too well known number.

"Is ist a good one?" came a slightly annoyed voice thru the phone.

"Well yes, I would think so." Lestrade answers short. He knew he didn't have to describe the Problem to Sherlock. He probably already knew.

"Excellent give me 15" the call ended with a lout beep a Lestrad shifted his phone back into his pocket. The Call was just as expected. Lestrade was keeping himself busy until a black taxi arrived and a miserably looking Sherlock got off.

Slow but steady the detective walked up towards Lestrad. But he did not intend to talk to the Inspector. Instead he just kept moving towards the scene an began investigating it. It wasn't an unusual behaviour for Sherlock. But something about him seamed just wrong.

"Sherlock are you alright?" questioning the detective while hasten behind Sherlock.

"I‘m quite alright." He answered without locking at the Inspector.

But Lestrad didn't take it. The man’s eyes were glassy, his face slightly red and his voice sounded occupied.

"Are you sure about that?" he tried again. This time Sherlock turned around and looked him directly in the eyes.

"Yes." He answers his voice a little edgy.

"I feel a little fuzzy right now but nothing I can't handle while solving a case." He didn't wait for an answer. Just turned around once again and kept investigating. But he seemed to speed up his investigation. Or probably he just wanted to show Lestrad that he was quite busy.

The detective rolled his eyes dramatically although the Man still had his Back turned towards him. So he just went back to his car and watched the Detective with some distance. It was nothing new, that Sherlock kept an mystery about himself. But the DI knew something was up and he would just have to wait until he couldn't hide it any longer.

Time flew by while Sherlock strolled around the scene. He seemed almost as always. And Lestrade started to believe he might have been mistaken.

But then all of a sudden, Sherlock started to wobble while straightening up. Lestrad was up in an instant.

"Sherlock you alright?" Lestrad cited over the scene. But when the consultant did not answer he started moving towards him. 

He was only about 3 meters away when Sherlocks legs gave in.

He was running now. The people around the scene quitted what they were doing and watched what was happening. 

"Sherlock? SHERLOCK YOU HERE ME?" He was now kneeling beside him and shaking his shoulders lightly. 

The man responded slightly but didn't answer or opened his eyes. Anderson who for the first moment just stood and watched what was happening, joined Lestrat shortly after and laid a Hand on Sherlocks forehead.

"Well surprise.'' Anderson made a dramatic pause ''Our genius here is just a human being like all of us and catches a fever." Anderson sad Ironic. But Lestrad shot him a dark look. 

Sherlock started stirring again and removed the Hand that laid on his forehead forcefully.

"Don't let that failure of a forensics touch me." Sherlock groaned while he struggled to get his way up. Lestrad helped him while Anderson just lifted his hands conciliatory and slowly walked backwards. 

"I am fine. Just a little fuzzy. But that will brush off." He said while he obviously had a hard time staying.

"I think we should get you home." Lestrad sad none of the last with a worried tone while he was keeping a close look on Sherlock.

"Don't bother. I got all I need from the scene. I will go home and call you when I solved it." 

He turned and started walking off. But once more he started to wobble. But this time Lastrad wasn’t far behind him and put an steady arm around him.

He saw that it took the man all the strength he had left to keep on walking. Anderson was right. He was radiating a lot of heat and on his head gathered small drops of sweat. Why did he always had t be so unreasonable? He never listened to the needs of his body.

"I will drive you home." Lestrad offered. Sherlock stopped for a minute and seamed to think about it.  
"No need for that. I will get a cap and John should be home by now." 

Lestrad knew it was no good to debate with him right now. So he followed his wish and got him into a cap.

The man looked awful. Once he was seated he softly groaned with relief and closed his eyes. He seemed not to bother and put a seat belt on. So Lestrad bent over Sherlock and did it for him. Once he was done he laid a hand on Sherlocks shoulder “Get well soon.“

The man didn't looked up or answered. It seemed he already fell into a fit full sleep. So Lestrad closed the door and signed the driver to drive off.

He was worried that Sherlock would not tell John about what was wrong. So right after the cap left he pulled out his phone for a text.

'Hey John,  
Sherlock will be home soon. Got a fever and is not feeling well.  
GL'

'Thanks for telling. Had a feeling will see he gets better.  
JW'

***

45 minutes later

 

'Has he left yet?  
JW'

'He left a minute bevor I texted  
GL'

"Demit! He is once again acting like a child. Will call Mycroft. Let’s hope we find him fast.  
JW'

***

It was getting dark. Sherlock was resting on a bench in a park. He didn‘t know which park it was thou.

His head was pulsing. His skin burned, and his limps were hurting. All in all, he was feeling awful.

But he could not go back to Backerstreet. Lestrad had probably told John what was up. And he was not in the mood of being nursed and feed with some stupid medication which would not work.

But he knew the night would be too cold to stay outside. But were to go? He tried to think of something good. But his mind was too blurring.

No matter how hard he tried. He just could not think straight.

A cool breeze picked up and he started to shiver. Shortly after that he heard a voice.

"Oh brother dear. Why do you always have to make everything harder than it has to be?"

Sherlock peered an eye open and sighted. Shure. His brother always found him. 

He felt a hand on his forehead. With a lot of afford he pushed it away and mumbled something that could not be recognized. 

Mycroft shook his head. It was always the same with his brother.

"You are burning up Sherlock. Let’s get you home so John can take a look at you." He started to lift him but Sherlock once more struggled him off. Instead of following his brothers wish to laid down.

"I want to stay right here." He managed to say.

Again, Mycroft shook his head. But he knew he had no time for this. His brother was sick an lying outside with an open coat and the tempter below 0.

He pulled a syringe out of his pocket and bevor Sherlock realized what was happening he gently injected it to Sherlock. Who moaned and looked a little shocked towards his brother.

"Did you just..." he began but quitted talking when he realized what it was.

Mycroft put a hand onto his shoulder and squeezed it slightly, “It is only for your own good. You know that. “

Sherlock forced his head away and blinked a few times.

Mycroft Straightened up and waved his driver towards him so they could carry Sherlock into the car. 

'Found him. Meet you at 221b  
MH'

It wasn‘t a short drive back to Backerstreet. 

Mycroft was sitting with his brother in the back of the car.

"Oh dear brother. It is not a shame to be sick. You are just as human as anyone."

He looked towards Sherlock who was leaning against the cool frame of the car. Eyes closed. It seemed he tried to shut out the world.

"I know you can hear me Sherlock. That was just a sedative." He watched his brother with worried eyes and stroked softly thru Sherlocks curly hair.

"I’m ... not ashamed... I just try to ignore you..." his tone was harsh, and he turned further towards the door and away from his brother. 

Mycroft sighted. He just wanted to make sure his little brother was safe. And sometimes he needed to be protected of himself. Why would he never just accept help when he obviously needed it?

"You should thank me that I found you bevor some criminals did."

But instead of answering him Sherlock started to cough. Mycroft felt pity for his little brother. And his hand wandered down to his back where it stayed. Making small circles

Sherlock did not comment on that. That showed Mycroft how serious this situation was. Normally his brother would keep fighting him off. But right now, he had no strength left to do so. He started to become worried and hoped they would arrive soon.

 

His brothers warm hand felt good. But the cold of the metal felt even better. Every now and then he groaned in pain. Once he started shivering again Mycroft pulled a blanked out of the back of the car and laid it over Sherlock.

But it seemed to do him no good. And by the time they arrived at 221b it seemed Sherlock had fallen asleep.

"I hope you will be good a do what the Dr. says." Mycroft sad before the car finally stopped. But he was not sure if his brother had heard him.

John was already waiting outside. Carefully he opened Sherlocks door. Mycroft pulled him a little towards himself to make sure he wouldn't droop out of the car.

John woke Sherlock softly. Groggily the Man opened an eye but didn't seemed to focus. So, John just pulled him out of the car. He was really week on his feet. So, he had to almost carry him up the stairs. 

Mycroft followed behind. Once they were upstairs John laid Sherlock down on the couch. He pulled of Sherlock coat and draped a blanked over him. Then he laid a hand on his forehead and sighed. 

"I will get the thermometer" John got up to get his bag.

"I am fine" sad a thin voice coming from the detective. 

John rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Yes, right we saw that. Is that the reason why I had to half carry you up here? Or are you starting to get lazy?" he did not try to hide his anger while he was leaving.

Mycroft seated himself on the chair next to the couch. And laid a hand on his brother’s head.

"Don't worry little brother. John will take good care of you. Trust me."

Sherlock looked tired in Mycrofs direction.

"I’m fine." He muffled once again. But this time his words were muffled by the cushions.

Mycroft smiled sadly. "Sure, you are." He moved his hands thru Sherlocks hair. And the detective seemed to relax a little.

John came back and took Sherlocks temperature. The detective didn‘t seem to notice it. He had probably fallen asleep.

The thermometer said 39,4. John sighted and felt for the man’s pulse. It was racing.

Mycroft watched the doctor in concern while he was investigating the sick man.

“Well he came down with a serious flu...“

Mycroft nodded his head.

“I was guessing that. He is always so stubborn when he gets sick. He thinks there is no need to give his body some rest. Until it comes to the point where his body just takes it.“

Sherlock stirred on the couch and replied

“It always works out fine... so why should I care? “

His brother shook his head. And pulled his hand away from his brother. So, he was not sleeping after all. Of course not. He wanted to make sure that nobody would do anything he did not want them to do.

“It always worked out because I always make sure of that.“

Sherlock rolled his eyes and pulled the blanket further towards his nose. He had not the nerves to discuss this right now.

“Good thing you are awake “

The Dr. interrupted kneeling down next to the man with a pill in one hand and a glas of water in the other. 

Mycroft smiled slightly because he knew how this was going to end.

“Come on Sherlock sit up and take some medicine. “

But Sherlock only rolled to the other side, so his face was buried in the pillows. John freed his hands and tried to turn Sherlock and sit him up a bit.

“Leave me BE!“

The detective shouted with all the strength he had left. But John was no one to get impressed by something like that. He just easily turned him around, because Sherlock had not much to hold against John right now.

Mycroft just shook his head slightly. He knew how his brother was feeling. But there was nothing other they could do to help him.

“Oh brother just take the medicine and we will leave you in peace.“

But Sherlock seemed to continue to ignore his brother.

“Would you mind lending me a hand?“

John questioned Mycroft with a slightly annoyed tone.

„Trust me Dr. Watson. This is no good. How much time I wasted by trying to convince my brother to take his medications. Just wait until he falls asleep. That makes thinks a lot easier.“

John thought about that but before he could answer Sherlock did it.

“I am not going to fall asleep.“

He said with agony in his voice. But Mycroft just nodded with a smile.

''Sure. Like you never do.''

John pulled up a chair and fetched a bowel of water as well as a towel from the kitchen. He then sat on the chair wetted a towel and laid it on Sherlocks forehead. The cool from the towel felt unbelievable good. But he did not want to accept any help. So, he shook it of an once again turned away.

John looked at Mycroft who gesticulated him to let time pass.

Both men were staring at the sick detective. John was quite nervous about not doing anything to help him. He could see how hard this was on Sherlock. He was still shivering and every now and then he moaned quietly.

“Would you please... quit staring at me?“

The detective muffled thru the pillows.

“If you let us help you we probably would quit. But we can be just as stubborn as you are.“

John was on his feet now. But Sherlock just took a pillow and threw it in Johns direction.

“what the...“But Mycroft interrupted John by lifting his umbrella between the two and John just sat down.

 

Time went by and Sherlocks rustled breath got steady. Mycroft nodded. So John tried it.

“Sherlock are you awake?“

No answer came. So John turned the man onto his back and sat him up a bit. Then he took the water and poured a bit into the detectives mouth and he slowly swallowed it. So now he put the Pill into his mouth and poured some Water after them. Once again, he swallowed it.

But once he got the pill down he started to cough. John pulled him up a bit more, so it was easier for him to cough. When the fit settled John helped him back down and again laid a towel on his forehead. He groaned slightly, and his exes fluttered slightly.

“... am alright…..“

The sick man whispered but was not really conscious. John stroked his hair and answered

“We know you are.“

That seemed to help Sherlock to relax because he went right back to sleep.

When John was sure he was asleep again he put an IV into Sherlocks hand to make sure he was hydrated.

 

It was in the middle of the night when Sherlock suddenly woke.

It was dark around him. His head was swaying. Where was he?

He felt bad. Why was he feeling so... sick?

He just remembered that he was at a crime scene. But what happened then?

He felt an infusion stucked in his hand. Without much movement he pulled it out.

That had to be it. Whatever they were giving him made him feel this bad.

He tried to concentrate. But his brain was just not working right. He felt hot and cold at the same time. His skin was burning. But other than that, his body was shivering. It had to be poison they gave him.

He looked up, but everything was dark. He couldn't see a thing. But he had to try it. He had to make a run for it.

He gathered all the strength he had left and jumped up. It took him a few seconds until the dizziness faded. But then he was ready. Ready to run.

But suddenly a hand gripped his arm holding him in place.

“Sherlock what do you think you’re doing?“

The voice sounded familiar, but he couldn't quite match it right now. But the touch scared him so much he jerked free and ran the opposite direction.

“Sherlock don't be ridiculous“

The voice shouted behind the running man. But he didn't stop.

He found a door. He was through the door when suddenly another person throw his arms around him.

He tried to get free once again. But this one was way stronger or at least way more serious about holding him back.

“Sherlock. SHERLOCk! Calm down. Everything is alright.“

But Sherlock seemed not to care about anything he heard. But John didn't let go.

“Don't know what you want from me. But I don't let you experiment on me again.“

Now John knew what this was all about. Sherlock did not try to run from them. He was delirious. He had to try to calm him. The man was struggling. But John felt he had not much strength that he could use. So, it was not that hard to hold him back.

Bevor he could think of something, he saw Mycroft with a syringe who prickt Sherlock. Only seconds later the sick man stopped his struggle and sank into himself.

“... lease.... Please just …..leave me be......“

His voice sounded so defeated and scared, that John felt pity for his roommate. Carfully he got him back towards the couch bevor he was completely out of it. He locked over to Mycroft with disbelief on his face.

“What was that you gave him? You can‘t just drug your brother...“

Mycraft was already on his seat again.

“Don't worry Doctor. It was just something to help him sleep.“

He smiled towards John who sat down next to Sherlock and fixed the Infusion.

He then took his temperature again. 39,6. It was getting higher not lower… He took another towel and placed it on Sherlocks forehead. The man looked so scared. John felt a pinch to his heart. He hoped that that was not the usual procedure for Mycroft to handle his brother.

He laid a hand on Sherlocks shoulder to show him that he was there.

“Don't worry Sherlock you are save here. And you will be fine in a while. “

The detective opened his eyes a little, but it seemed that he could not focus on John.

“.....John....... is that you.....?“

John got a little closer.

“Yes Sherlock it’s me. You will be fine. Just sleep for a little while.“

The man struggled to keep his eyes open.

“I can‘t.... They will find me…. You should leave..... I don't want to be a burden….“

The last Word was so quiet John almost missed it. But he heard it. Although he wasn't quite sure what he wanted to tell him. But right now, it didn't matter. Sherlock had to rest.

“Don't worry Sherlock its not your fault to be sick.“

He stroked thru the man’s curly hair. But he didn't notice it anymore. His stiff form relaxed a bit more and he drifted into a restless sleep.

“So what do you think? How bad is it?“

Mycroft asked. John sighted and pulled his hand back.

“Well if his fever is getting any higher we have to bring him to a hospital.“

Mycroft started turning his umbrella in his right hand and thought about that.

“I hope that is not going to happen. Otherwise we will have to drug him till its over.“

John turned towards Mycroft with astonishment on his face.

“Are you really telling me you are going to drug your brother while he is recovering from the flu?“

Mycroft was staring into the distance.

“Trust me Dr. Watson that would be the best for all parties. Explicitly for Sherlock.“

That was it. John had enough of this.

“I can not believe that you of all are drugging your brother. No wonder that he is an addict. You of all should know what this means for Sherlock. I am not letting you keep drugging him. You can destroy his live with that. How do you think he will learn drugs are no escape if you always use them as such?“

That was it. Mycroft stood up with such a a force he almost kicked over his chair.

“Do you think I like drugging my brother? Do you really think I use it as an escape for him?“

Mycrofts voice sounded threatening.

“Why else would you do it?“

John asked lowering his voice a little.

“It is for his best. My brother hates the loss of control. Further on he made some bad experiences with medical staff and medical equipment. Since then there was no way to get him to a doctor. No matter what he had. And when they brought him in while he was unconscious as soon as he woke he started to fight the staff. It got quite dangerous for him and the staff. I had to drug him to prevent further damage. It never got any better. So, I got used to drug him when he needed medical attention. Once he chooses you I hoped this would end. Since you are a doctor and it seems he trusts you. But I might have been wrong about that.“

John didn't know what to say. But Mycroft sounded desperate. Was it really that bad with Sherlock? He just could not believe that.

“Please Mycroft let me try it the next time. I am sure I can handel this. He is not the first difficult patient I have.“

Mycroft took his seat again and just nodded.

“Sorry… I’m trouble...“

came a hoarse voice from the detective. John immediately turned to Sherlock and kneeled beside him.

“Don't worry. Everything is going to be alright. “

John saw how Sherlocks eyes closed again. And though they were a little wet.

He put an hand on Sherlocks cheek to ease him.

When he had fallen asleep again, John sad back.

“You don‘t have to stay. I can take care.“

“I am sure you can. But I don't want to take chances. “

Mycraft turned his umbrella again while he eyed his brother carefully. It was obvious that he was worried about him. He really wanted to protect him. But how could he when his brother mistrusted him?

Resigned he leaned back in his chair but did not take his eyes of Sherlock.

John didn't miss how Mycroft acted and was now sure that he did not lie to him.

 

Sherlock had a restless sleep. He tossed around and just could not get comfortable. Occasionally, John tried to calm him down a little.

But it seemed he could not get thru to him. He just made sure the wet towel stayed were it was supposed to be and made sure he was covert with the blanket.

 

It started to dawn when Sherlock woke next. He was lying on his back when he slowly opened his eyes. His eyelids felt heavy and his head was banging.

He moaned softly and tried to sit up. But his body was hurting so much he almost couldn't move at all.

He did not remember how he got here. But he knew he didn't want to stay here. His brother and John were sitting around him, and he did not like that. He felt miserable and wanted to be alone. Why did they both had to be here?

He rolled to the side got his legs underneath himself and stood up. He was swaying dangerously but managed to stay. When he tried to move an astonished voice interrupted him.

“Brother mine you are up again?“

Now also John woke and reacted immediately. He stood up and steadied the detective.

“Sherlock why are you up?“

He took a close look at the detective and could see he was not any better than bevor. His eyes were not even really open.

“Got to pee.“

He only sad and started moving. John helped him towards the bathroom and opened the door for him. Sherlock got in and locked it.

“Sherlock why do you lock the door?“

Sherlock did not answer. But instead he heard another door being opened and heard a second lock.

“Sherlock what‘s this about? Open the door. Come on. This is isn't funny.“

Still no answer. Mycroft was now standing in the kitchen too. John started to shake the door but that didn't help.

''Go Away I want to be left alone''

His voice sounded tired and annoyed.

''Sherlock you are sick. Let us help you to get it over easy.''

''I don’t need Help. I feel fine.''

Mycroft rolled his eyes and lifted his Handy to his temples.

''Sherlock I knows you are feeling miserable, if you would let us help we can handle this.''

But before he finished his sentence, they heard a loud bang like a body hitting the ground. That was it. John took to steps back and kicked open the door.

Sherlock was lying on the ground. John hurried over to his side.

''Sherlock? SHERLOCK can you hear me?''

''...m fine...'' he whispered

''Yes we know Sherlock''

He lifted the detective of the ground and helped him into his bed. He sighted quietly when he saw a small bleeding slash on Sherlocks forehead.

''This just keeps getting better. Now you also injured yourself''

''What did I tell you Dr. Am I now allowed to give him something to relax again?''

Both man had almost forgot about Mycraft who was now standing lazily in the doorframe.

''Throw him out..... please....''

John turned to Mycroft who lifted his Hands in defeat, left the room and closed the door behinde him,

John turned back to Sherlock who's face distorted in pain.

''Sherlock he is gone now. Where do you hurt?''

The detective tried to role to his side. But John held him in place.

''Sherlock I mean it. Either you talk to me or I will consider other Options.''

He didn’t wait for an answer. He took a closer look at the Slash on his forehead. With gentle fingers he stroked away a small curl to get a better view. Sherlock still stirred in pain when he answered.

''Everything hurts. Trouble staying conscious. Can't see straight. Just feel so bad.''

John took his pulse once again. It was still way to fast.

''listen Sherlock. If you let me help you, we can make this easy on you.''

The sick man lifted his head to make eye contacted.

''I wound take your stupid medicine.''

John sighted

''Sherlock''

''No leaf me alone!''

John sad down on the edge of Sherlocks bad and laid a hand on the detective shoulder. He didn't say anything anymore. Out of fright, that Sherlock would withdraw even further.

It didn't take long until Sherlock fell again into a restless sleep. Once he did john got up, to get the bowl of water and a chair.

Mycraft waited in the kitchen for him.

''Well how did it go?'' Mycroft put down a glass he just inspected.

''He still refuses to let me help, but he has not sent me away yet. So, I will sit with him and hope he will get better. But I think it will be better for you to stay out.''

''Well I am not going to leaf. But i will give him the space he wants.''

With that the man went back into the living room and sad down in Sherlocks chair.


End file.
